


Into The Night

by gray_zelle



Series: Love And Squalezkaban: Collection #1 [7]
Category: a series of unfortunate events - netflix
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, gray-zelle squaleszkaban, just a lot of description of the hinterlands in this one as well bc hell yea, late night drive, squaleszkaban, squalezkaban
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24222958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gray_zelle/pseuds/gray_zelle
Summary: Esmé is kept awake by late night woes, so Jacquelyn takes her (and Olivia, who’s asleep) on a drive out of the City, through the Hinterlands, and into the night.
Relationships: Jacquelyn Scieszka/Esmé Squalor, Olivia Caliban/Esmé Squalor, Olivia Caliban/Jacquelyn Scieszka/Esmé Squalor, Olivia Caliban/Jacques Snicket
Series: Love And Squalezkaban: Collection #1 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592197
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Into The Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LemonsandRosemary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonsandRosemary/gifts), [kitsnicketts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitsnicketts/gifts), [msariadneoliver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/msariadneoliver/gifts).



> \- Jacquelyn says fuck once in a throwaway line  
> \- this is hurt/comfort but written somewhat badly bc it's been a while so bear with me  
> \- also the Hinterlands content is inspired by ideas and musings from Gracie so credit to Gracie for that!! (doctorpinkky on ao3, lesbianscieszka on tumblr)
> 
> this is also dedicated to olivia-caliban and olivia-caliban-coulson on tumblr!!

Jacquelyn woke around 2300 hours, when various gentle beeps echoed through the still and dark Penthouse. She tensed, then realised the beeps were appliances switching back on, and that the bedroom fan was still spinning. So she relaxed - it was just an electric flick. 

She stretched carefully, to keep Olivia, between her girlfriends, asleep. Before she rolled over to sleep once more, she gained the feeling things weren’t right with her world. That woes she was used to battling, and helping to battle, had settled within one of her girlfriends.

“Esmé?” she murmured.

“...Yes?” 

Esmé didn’t hide her sleeplessness; distanced from her girlfriends in their bed, she watched Jacquelyn sit up, and palm her hair from her face. Then winced when one of Jacquelyn’s rollers fell out. 

“What is it, baby?” 

Esmé replied with a shrug. Jacquelyn could tell there was a reason, and that Esmé wasn’t willing to explain - thanks to the reason bringing a weight to her chest, which hadn’t lifted with the remedies she’d tried.

Or had tried so far. 

Jacquelyn reached over Olivia, still sound asleep, to brush Esmé’s face. Esmé dropped her cheek into her palm, heaving a sigh and looking away - like Jacquelyn’s contact helped, but only so much. When her girlfriend asked, “D’you want to talk about it?”, she shook her head. 

That was fine with Jacquelyn. 

She hoped Esmé would approve of her go-to, even favourite, remedy for late night woes.

Esmé’s gaze fell on her back while she retrieved her tank top from the floor, yanked out her rollers, then took the Chevelle’s keys from the bedside drawer. After donning her leather jacket, and turning, she let their eyes meet. Though the rest of her face stayed neutral, Esmé’s eyes were filled with curiosity.

“Where are you going at _this_ hour?” 

“Want to find out?” 

After hesitating, Esmé heaved a sigh, like she had no other choice but to join her girlfriend. So she slid out of bed. Jacquelyn sat back down, her palm finding Olivia’s shoulder while she waited. And listened to Esmé, getting ready, muttering indecipherable things.

What Jacquelyn did understand was, “Do I need to look presentable?” 

“Nope.” 

Scoffing, Esmé began rummaging in Jacquelyn’s closet. She pulled out a flannel shirt her girlfriend would gladly lend her: being almost warmer and softer than physically possible, it was one of the best Jacquelyn owned. She’d worn and lent it many a time before, on late night journeys like their impending one. Olivia (a previous borrower) would say it was used to what lay ahead of them.

“How’s this for non-presentable?” Esmé asked, pulling her hair back.

“Love you too, babe,” Jacquelyn teased. She then felt movement beneath her, as Olivia woke, grasping her girlfriend’s hand on her shoulder. “D’you want to come too, baby?” 

“Where?” Olivia murmured, barely awake.

“Esmé can’t sleep.”

“Oh. Of course I’ll come.” 

Jacquelyn returned the sleepy smile her girlfriend gave her, then placed her glasses in her waiting palm.

Olivia resumed her slumber across the Chevelle’s back seat, too tired to help soothe her girlfriend tonight (not that Jacquelyn minded). Esmé sat up front with Jacquelyn; while Jacquelyn started down Dark Avenue, and into the City around it, she played with the flannel shirt’s buttons. Carefully. Like she’d now deemed the shirt too precious to wear. Considering Esmé’s taste in fashion, that sure was something.

Trying to make conversation this late at night, when one conversation partaker has a lot on their chest they’ll struggle to heave off, is tough. Tougher than halving a jawbreaker with one tooth - if you’re not Sunny Baudelaire, that is, though Olivia, Jacquelyn and Esmé didn’t know that yet. Jacquelyn was no stranger to the subject matter discussed, or the emotions felt, on a late night drive like this. But she’d learned, over nights consoling Esmé in the Penthouse, that it was best to give Esmé a sense of control over the situation. And let her open up when she was completely ready to. 

Since Esmé had quietened upon entering the Chevelle, Jacquelyn thought she might not open up for a while yet. But that wasn’t a problem - Jacquelyn had learned when to be patient.

So when Esmé twisted the radio dial, Jacquelyn kept most of her attention to the City streets before the three. 

Chuck Berry was- Esmé skipped him. Then The ‘Stones- not them, either. David Bowie stayed for longer (he was In), and Olivia stirred at (maybe?) Olivia Newton-John. Esmé chose static, and sat back, and stiffly. Her gaze locked not on the streets, but an elsewhere Jacquelyn couldn’t see.

Their conversation didn’t begin, didn’t progress, didn’t end. 

Jacquelyn was yet to meet someone who her remedy hadn’t worked for. She didn’t want that first person to be Esmé.

But she stayed calm. They had a fair drive ahead of them.

It took forever to leave the busier parts of the City, and the carbon-copied suburbia outside of that. When they finally passed the last house, Jacquelyn brought the gearstick into fifth, her gear-changing hand gracing Esmé’s thigh.

It made Esmé heave a small sigh, and shift closer. Jacquelyn was already warmed by her leather jacket; she hoped the flannel was warm enough for Esmé.

At the end of Handler Street (a fucking _long_ street, if you asked Jacquelyn), they would be on their way to their destination. Knowing that made Jacquelyn smile. It gave her a feeling she’d revelled in as a younger adult, and now, only felt in sparse moments like this. 

Said feeling being a concoction of fear and excitement, which she downed upon plunging into the Hinterlands. And into the night. 

After turning onto the Hinterland Highway, passing a 60 sign, Jacquelyn put her foot down - letting the Chevelle surge forward, and onward at an (almost) sound-defying speed. Like it was built to do. Its (perfectly maintained) engine gave an almighty roar, making her heart beat faster. She saw Esmé gently rock back with that glorious power; a thump came when Olivia slid into a new position.

“Having fun there, revhead?” Esmé bit, her girlfriend honestly relieved to hear her voice. (It felt like Esmé hadn’t spoken in days.)

Then she realised what Esmé had said. Playing it cool, she said, “Revhead. That’s a new one.” 

“You’re definitely being one. Do you _want_ Olivia to scold you for being reckless, this late at night, here of all places?”

Jacquelyn hadn’t thought of that; she winced, glancing in the mirror. Olivia hadn’t stirred. And, hopefully, would stay asleep. The next time Jacquelyn sped up, she did so carefully. 

The Chevelle charged into the darkness and emptiness of the Hinterlands - in silence, aside from the Chevelle growling, appreciating this run once more. Its golden lights revealed only the road ahead, while bouncing off the red and white reflector sticks either side of it. The blackness, the road, and the moon above would be the only scenery for quite some time, but it was something Jacquelyn was too used to, to deem boring. Instead, it reminded her of Highway travels from times gone by - the good, the bad, and the remedies.

She didn’t think Esmé would appreciate the Highway’s nostalgics, though. Esmé wasn’t the fondest of travelling. She liked to complain about a drive wherever she could; Olivia and Jacquelyn would keep her happy by asking for the latest gossip she knew. Thus on recent trips, Esmé had talked for not most, but all of the trip’s duration. Neither of her girlfriends minded.

So Esmé soon began talking again. The weight on her chest didn’t budge, though Jacquelyn knew there was still plenty of time for that.

After messing with her hair, and looking out the passenger window for all of two seconds, Esmé remarked, “Wonderful view.”

“I know how much you love travelling, babe,” Jacquelyn gently teased.

“I don’t even know what I’m _meant_ to be seeing, with all this darkness. It’s absurd.” Esmé turned her head to the road within the Chevelle’s lights. “Is it worth seeing?”

“I don’t think it would be your cup of tea.”

“So it’s something boring? Trees, like the drive to Paltryville? Or just more of these reflecting sticks?”

“Not trees. Nothing grows out here. Practically no one _lives_ out here. They call it The Hinterlands like there’s a huge spectacle attached to it, but really, there’s not.” 

Esmé frowned slightly. “I know there _was_ a big tourism project for out this way, maybe, twenty years ago. Wasn’t there? That was before the _Daily Punctilio_ paid attention to things worth being In or Out.”

“Yes, there was a Hinterlands tourism project. A few companies invested in its potential, and built motels and attractions for it - Caligari Carnival was there before it - but it all fell through, so they abandoned the finished buildings and gave up. Now those buildings are here and there beside the Highway, just… standing there.” 

Truth be told, Jacquelyn should’ve decorated her explanation into a campfire horror story, for the fun of it; though Esmé probably wasn’t up for that-

Out of nowhere, the reflectors disappeared, at the entrance to the Highway’s first abandoned building. A gas station. It was the perfect coincidence - Jacquelyn hadn’t even planned it. She’d almost forgotten the station’s remains were _there_.

Esmé hesitated before asking, “Like that?” 

“Like that.”

Olivia would know more about the whole Hinterlands project, with her love of history. Just like that, the entrance to Prufrock Preparatory School appeared, making Jacquelyn give a “Ha”. 

Esmé slid herself towards the passenger-side door, as though Jacquelyn was driving _two_ maybe-psychics into the night.

Further, they journeyed. It was closer to 23:30, now, and the Highway had changed bearings. Moonlight fell on the Chevelle, lighting up Esmé’s hair; though Jacquelyn couldn’t see that elsewhere gaze in her eyes again. Because Esmé was looking out the window, to the darkness and nothingness that had bored her before.

Jacquelyn could tell she’d sunk lower in her already affected spirits. That the weight on her chest was bearing down, harder than before, to where keeping herself together was difficult. As she drove, her girlfriend mulled over respecting Esmé’s need for control, or gently asking to talk. But she couldn’t bring herself to. Not just because she’d found patience while growing up, but… She didn’t want Esmé to break.

So Jacquelyn kept the silence between them. For Olivia’s sake, she paid more attention to the road - even when Esmé was, as usual, impossible to ignore.

Esmé watched the darkness roll by.

The Chevelle’s lights continued hitting reflectors, and Jacquelyn began counting them for the hell of it. A bump in the highway would throw her off; she’d start again, eyes darting across the glow, picking up every red and white dot. 

What brought her back was Esmé, reaching for her gear-changing hand. She did so almost shyly - like she expected Jacquelyn to shove her off, and away, and leave her moments from breaking.

Jacquelyn held her hand tight. 

Perhaps tighter than Esmé had anticipated. For all Jacquelyn knew, combatting the weight required such a grasp. Maybe she needed the firm, warm reminder that her girlfriend was right there - and, like she’d promised before, always would be.

Esmé didn’t loosen her grip. She seemed to appreciate Jacquelyn’s. 

Stealing a glance, she found Esmé staring ahead, to that elsewhere once more. She definitely wasn’t counting the reflectors. The look in her eyes, in the moonlight, had changed, giving Jacquelyn the feeling she might break soon - striking her with a slight nervousness she couldn’t shake. Making her hope Esmé would stay together until their destination finally arrived.

They kept their hands entwined; as time and the night passed, Esmé’s grip strengthened. To where it began to hurt. 

Looking over again, Jacquelyn now saw tears in her eyes. And one sliding down her cheek.

She knew what this was about. 

A gentle “Hey” was her first move. “Things’ll get better. Olivia and I aren’t lying, baby.”

“But when?” Esmé murmured, too softly for her girlfriend’s liking. 

“Soon.” She then added, “We’ll be there soon. As in, our destination.”

“How soon?”

“About ten minutes.”

They began silently counting down with the minutes on the Chevelle’s clock. Jacquelyn sped up to shorten the wait. Esmé didn’t mind at all; Olivia murmured something about libraries, and cupcakes, still asleep.

When the Chevelle’s clock hit 23:45, the turnoff appeared out of nowhere; Jacquelyn hit the brakes, _hard_ , shifting Olivia again.

This turnoff was barely noticeable, mind you; the road beyond it, to the right and south, was only dirt. Esmé hadn’t been expecting that - or to vibrate, somewhat violently, with her girlfriends and the Chevelle. She swore, making Jacquelyn grin. Over the coins rattling in the ashtray, she assured her this would be worth it. 

Now they were completely bathed in moonlight. It lit up Esmé’s eyes entirely, showing Jacquelyn the look in them had changed for the better. Said look was one of fear, definitely fear, but excitement, too. Not as balanced as Jacquelyn’s fear and excitement concoction, but it was clear Esmé was finally immersed in the feeling that came, with plunging into the night. 

She still asked, “How much further?”, the travel enthusiast she was.

“I told you it’s worth it, babe. Just a moment more.” 

A minute or so later, the road panned out to what was, around these parts, a clearing. A large patch of softer dirt, void of half-dead plants, and sporting tyre marks in places, since Jacquelyn wasn’t the spot’s only visitor. She considered it a Secret Spot anyway. 

A Secret Spot where, time and time before, her remedy had come into effect. And worked. Jacquelyn then hoped, again, that it would work for Esmé, too.

When she turned the Chevelle off, and its engine stopped ticking, silence came. Pure silence. True silence. Until the breeze gradually picked up, gently blowing across the barren plains, and tilting the Chevelle.

The entire world was still. Even… quiet, here.

In the moonlight, Esmé looked intrigued (a good start.)

“What now?”

Jacquelyn’s hand left the gearstick, taking hers. “This.”

She lead her outside the Chevelle.

At first, Esmé tensed and looked around, probably waiting for savage creatures to ambush them. Yet she trusted her girlfriend, journeying into the night with her.

For all of two steps, though - Jacquelyn helped Esmé onto the Chevelle’s roof, where she got comfortable, buttoning up the flannel shirt. After looking around the Hinterlands’ plains, and all they had to offer (barely anything), she frowned. “So what’s-”

Jacquelyn guided her chin upward, and she gasped. 

“Jacquelyn… This… _Jacquelyn…_ ”

Jacquelyn felt herself smile. Wide. When Esmé wouldn’t take her eyes from the sky, it widened further. It almost grew painful at Esmé’s next gasp- after Jacquelyn had her close her eyes for ten seconds, then look up again, the view magically improving.

At Esmé’s first shiver, Jacquelyn pulled off her leather jacket. She wrapped Esmé in it, first, then her arms. Only when Esmé was comfortable did she look up herself. 

Up to the stars in the sky. 

The Hinterland project’s death, and subsequent lack of tall (or many) buildings along the plains, had worked out in a strange but magical way. It kept the skyline impeccably clear. And this Secret Spot, for some strange but appreciable reason, had the best view of the stars; the best all the Hinterlands could offer. 

Here, they covered the _entire_ sky, to where one could hardly see the black underneath. It was like someone had spilled silver glitter over ebony tiles. Or, even better: it was like studying Esmé’s bejeweled, or glittery, black dresses and suits. Something Jacquelyn had done while the three lazed on the couch, tipsy and tired, after a night out.

Amidst the glitter were a few constellations. Olivia knew several of them; she’d pointed them out before, when her own late night woes had brought them to the Secret Spot. (Jacquelyn’s remedy had cured all those, too.)

Jacquelyn soon heard movement below the roof - a minute later, Olivia climbed up to her girlfriends, with a packet of chocolate buttons conjured from nowhere. 

Esmé didn’t notice her arrive, still mesmerised by the sky. Olivia fixed that by kissing her cheek. 

“What? I-” Esmé came back to earth, then looked to her girlfriends. Realising what they’d done for her, to lift that weight off her chest, she gave them a wide smile. “Thank you, my darlings.” 

“I did nothing,” Olivia replied, stifling a yawn.

“You have chocolate, so that’s something.” 

“Well, yes, I do. But the drive out here was all Jacquelyn.”

Jacquelyn had no time to react; Esmé gently grasped her face, before kissing her lips, with a tenderness and sincerity one couldn’t express with words. It spun Jacquelyn’s head (in the best way), making everything but the sky, and Esmé, fade away for a moment. Fireworks danced across her closed eyes. When she opened them, she found the stars captured in Esmé’s. 

“Thank you, Jacquelyn.”

“It was nothing,” she replied.

Esmé’s smile then faded. A confused frown took its place. “Wait a moment. Jacquelyn. You drove all the way out here, this late at night, just for _me_?”

“...Yes?”

“You’re insane.”

“You love me.”

Esmé stammered something indecipherable. She returned her attention to the stars. 

With Esmé in her arms, and Olivia’s chin on her shoulder, Jacquelyn listened to Olivia’s constellation lesson. Well, the best she could, while playing with Esmé’s hair. After that, Olivia sang to her girlfriends, as the night crawled across the sky, from one horizon to the other. 

It was then Jacquelyn decided two things. One: that her remedy had definitely worked. And, two: that everything was, finally, right with her world.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this after spending a much too heterosexual evening with [redacted], like, i was sitting at [redacted's] place thinking about writing this because gay (and poly!) rights. it came to life after a late night drive (though not a long enough one tbh). then it took like ten drafts to get it right
> 
> i am also very much missing late night drives home after being in town for an evening so i went kinda ham writing this lmao
> 
> btw the song the title comes from is Into The Night by Dakota (1984): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cMaB5zKVW7A


End file.
